This will stay has a oneshot for the time being, but there's a very good chance that eventually it'll become a full length story.

Bedside Manners

"How nice of you to show up for work," Epiphany Johnson barked, as a petite, brunette nurse hurried into the hub. Her eyes dropped to the desk as she raked her messy curls into a ponytail, wincing as they tangled in the hair band. "If you'd take everyone's advice and just take some time off-"

"I can't really afford that luxury," the nurse replied, her shoulders tensing as she sorted through a pile of desks charts thatthe Head Nurse Johnson shoved in front of her. "Besides, I'm fine. I just – I was running late this morning. I promise, no more after today."

Epiphany grunted, looking at the brunette from the corner of her an eye. It was a look that was meant to be scolding, one that new attending Patrick Drake had seen her give several members of the hospital staff in his first twenty-four hours at General Hospital. She'd even looked at the Chief of Staff, Alan Quartermaine, the same way, and the man instantly crumbled and hurried away.

Clearly, she Epiphany was a force to be reckoned with.

"It won't happen again," the nurse reiterated, peeking at her boss through her messy bangs that hung in her face as she leaned over the desk.

She huffed again in response, but before she could badger her employee any further, Dr. Quartermaine stepped out of an elevator and called her over. The nurse sighed in relief as Epiphany walked away, still muttering under her breath.

"Does she give anyone a break?" Patrick spoke up, closing his chart and tucking it under his arm as he walked over.

"She means well," the nurse replied, quick to defend her. Glancing down, her eyebrows arched as she read the name on his ID badge. "You're new, so you haven't had a chance to get under her skin yet."

It was almost true, except that Epiphany had gotten on him for flirting with the nurses less than an hour into his first shift, but it had been a slow day. What else was he supposed to do?

"Don't worry," she muttered, as if reading his thoughts. "She's nice to everyone their first day or so, but soon enough she'll wipe the floor with youlet loose. And if she doesn't, I'd be worried because that probably means she doesn't like you at all."

"Well, I'll make sure to get in her good graces then," he said, one hand on his hip as he looked over her shoulder as she skimmed a chart. "I like being liked."

"Oh, I'm sure you do, Dr. Drake," she replied sarcastically, snapping the chart closed and spinning around to face him. "Your father did too. Your brother not so much, but that's why we like him."

"Ah," he groaned, rolling his eyes at the connections she was making.

His father, Noah Drake, was one of the best neurosurgeons on the East Coast – well, until Patrick started practicing.

His brother, Matt Hunter, his father's love child from a sordid affair, however, was not. If anything, he was just a thorn in Patrick's side, practicing medicine so he'd have something in common with the father he never knew, and Patrick was getting tired of Matt's increasingever increasing presence in his life.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked sweetly, stacking charts in her arms. "Otherwise, I have patients, and I'm sure you do too, Doctor."

"I do," he nodded, tapping his fingers against his hip as he looked her up and down. He noticed the slightest hint of amusement in her eyes when she realized he was checking her out, a look he was used to getting from most nurses. They liked the attention of the doctors whether they knew it or not. "But I'm still getting acquainted with the hospital. Maybe you could help me out with that."

"Was Dr. Quartermaine's orientation not thorough enough?" she asked curiously, chuckling under her breath when he didn't answer. "Have a nice day, Dr. Drake. If you get lost, there's an information desk on the first floor."

"So that's how you treat the newest attending?" he asked, leaning over the desk as she walked around it, her messy ponytail bouncing against her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, pausing in front of him as she forced a smile. "The next time you make a pass at me, I'll just fall right to me knees. I'm sure that's the reaction you're used to getting."

Grinning, he ducked his head as he leaned over just a little more. "You don't have to fall on your knees right away. I'd liked to at least get your name first."

"Why?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she backed towards the elevator, reaching behind her to hit the button as she kept her eyes on him. "Are you actually going to remember it afterwards?"

Before he could answer, the elevator doors opened, and his brother stepped out as she slipped in. T, the doctor and nurse having had a quick exchange Patrick couldn't hear. They talked until the doors started to close, and the sound of the nurse's laugh filtered out as she disappeared, and Matt turned towards his brother with a loopy grin on his face.

"Already harassing the nurses and you've been here – what? Five minutes?" he asked, setting a chart down on the desk and resting his arm on it. "You move faster than our father."

Patrick ignored the comparison, knowing he didn't have to point out that he wasn't married to a woman for years and sleeping around on her. Or that he didn't really sleep around once his wife was finally six feet under.

He may love a woman's company as much as the next man, but Patrick never led them to believe it was more than anything than a quick roll in the sheets, which was just how he liked it.

"Jealous?" Patrick asked, noticing how his brother was still grinning from his brief conversation with the nurse.

"Of what?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he flipped open a chart. "You talking to Elizabeth? No offense, Pat, but she's out of your league."

"What makes you say that?" he challenged, a little offended because there was no such thing as a woman being out of his league.

Just ask the sexy Persian nurse he'd spent his first night in town with – well, they'd had a few nights, but he just couldn't help himself. He had a thing for accents.

And then the quirky, little blonde with the big blues he'd hung out with the night before. She was reeling over some kind of breakup with her boyfriend, and Patrick never minded being the shoulder to cry as long as the woman was willing to cry horizontally.

Tonight, was still open, and he definitely needed a nurse to pay attention to his needs.

"Uh, she's sweet. And smart. Really funny," Matt replied, as if the testament to her character was enough. "And she wouldn't look twice at someone like you."

"Because you want her to look at you, right?" he asked, shaking his head as his brother shoved the chart at him.

"Because she's dealt with enough guys like you," he replied, tabbing the chart with his pencil. "I need a consult on this patient."

Frowning, Patrick glanced down and started skimming over Matt's notes, wondering why the good doctor needed his help when he was supposed to be so damn good at what he did. "Four-year-old boy, car accident, minor concussion, memory loss – I assume you've had tests ran, CAT Scans-"

"Of course," he interrupted, shrugging as he flipped through the chart. "There are the results. Nothing's abnormal. He was in and out of it for a few days, and when he woke up, he couldn't remember anything, so I wrote it off as-"

"Retrograde amnesia," Patrick cut in, skimming over the test results. "The accident happened less than two weeks ago, so there's still time for him to recover-"

"Except it's becoame worse. He's suffering from headaches, terrible headaches, and you add that to all his other injuries – the poor kid is being given so much pain medicine that he just sleeps all the time, when he should be outside playing – doing what normal kids do," Matt said, his shoulders sagging exhaustedly as he looked at his brother. "Look, just read over the chart, visit with the patient, and see if you can figure something out. This is important to me and who knows what kind of brownie points it'll get you if you can come through on this."

**********

Sighing, Elizabeth nibbled her lip as she looked over the various machines attached to the young boy's body, slowly recording his blood pressure, pulse, and so on as she did every day, several times a day without much of a chance.

When she finished, she closed the chart and stepped up beside the bed, reaching over and brushing one of his dark curls from his forehead. His skin was warm beneath her cool palm, and she took it as a positive sign, seeing as he'd once been very, very cold.

"Sad, isn't it?"

Elizabeth stepped back from the bed as if she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to her, surprised when Dr. Drake – not Hunter – stepped into the room.

"My brother asked me to consult on this case," he said, as if reading her expression.

"Of course," she nodded, handing him the chart and starting for the door.

"One minute, Elizabeth," he replied, startling her when he said her name, but then again, she should have known.

Surely, Matt had explained everything to him when he asked for the consult.

"I want another round of tests done on the patient," he ordered, nodding as he flipped through the chart again. "I've read this file twenty times today and I just can't figure it out, so maybe another round of tests, another CAT Scan – maybe something will show up. He scribbled his request down in the chart and handed it back to her. "It's a shame."

"It is," she agreed, glancing over at the little boy in the bed.

"I've been pacing around here all day," Patrick added, shaking his head in frustration. "Waiting for the mother to show up so I can talk to her, but she hasn't even stopped in. Her son is having a hard enough time as it is – he doesn't know where he is, what happened, and she's not even visiting him."

"I don't think you should make assumptions about his mother – or his parents for that matter," she said, stiffening at his disgusted tone.

"His father is the reason he's in this mess," he muttered spitefully, walking over to the end of the bed and looking down at the child, his hands on his waist. "And his mother-"

"Is probably having a hard enough time as it is," she interrupted angrily, glaring at the back of his head.

"I don't have kids, but I imagine that if my son-"

"Exactly," she cut in coldly, "you don't have kids, so you don't get to have an opinion on this."

Dr. Drake turned around, his smug demeanor shifting to one of completely annoyance. "Excuse me, Nurse, but I do get to have an opinion seeing as I'm the one trying to figure out how to save this little boy's life. Maybe by then his mother will have gotten her head out of her ass and she won't let a drug addict-"

"Whoa," Matt called out, stepping into the room and looking between Patrick and Elizabeth. "What's going on here? You seemed to be getting a little loud with Elizabeth."

"I was just trying to give him a lesson in bedside manner, but he clearly doesn't deserve the time," she hissed, turning on her heels and striding out of the room, her vision blurred with tears.

"What the hell did you do?" Dr. Hunter asked, shaking his head as he stepped up to his brother. Instead of waiting for an answer, he turned around and started out of the room, calling after Elizabeth, who was waiting impatiently for an elevator.

When the doors finally opened, she stepped inside and pressed the button for another floor – not really caring which one – a, and was relieved when they closed before Matt could catch up. It was difficult enough having to look her colleagues in their eyes day after day, but to be given a verbal lashing from the newest one – the one who had no fucking idea what had happened in the last two weeks – well, she just wasn't going to stand for it.

Leaning against the back of the elevator, she clenched her eyes closed, refusing to cry. Not when she was at work. Not when everyone would look at her and know why. Crying was something she'd learned to reserve for the safety of her apartment (when she could actually stand to be there) or the hospital showers where tears and water all mixed together.

The doors opened a few seconds later, and she was surprised when Dr. Quartermaine stepped on by himself. It was a rarity to catch the Chief of Staff alone, so she was going to use it as a to hern advantage.

"Ah, Elizabeth, how are you doing today?" he asked politely, hitting the button for the ground floor. She shrugged, not knowing what to say, but he understood her lack of words. "I checked on Cameron this morning. He seems to be-"

"The same," she interjected, hoping he wouldn't notice how she wiped the corner of her eyes. "About him – I'd like to ask a favor and hope that you and I could keep this between us."

"Of course, anything," he replied, holding the door closed when it openethe door open with his arm when it opened to his floord.

"I – um – Dr. Hunter has been amazing with Cameron's case. He's working night and day to try and figure out a way…" She trailed off, her emotions getting the best of her. "He asked Dr. Drake for a consult."

"Yes, you know he is the best, even though Dr. Hunter might argue differently," Dr. Quartermaine quipped, glancing down at his watch.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she told herself her request wasn't going to be out of line. After all, as the mother of that little boy in the coma, she couldn't stand for someone like Dr. Drake caring for her son. At least Matt knew the situation, understood it, and most of all was her friend through it all.

"I want to request that Dr. Drake is taken off of Cameron's case," she said firmly, grimacing when Dr. Quartermaine's eyes widened in surprised. He quickly recovered, frowning heavily and she knew he was thinking of the neurosurgeons experiences with the other nurses. Unfortunately a bad and forgotten one night stand was the least of her problems with Dr. Drake – if only it could be as simple as sex.

"Are you sure?" he asked, shaking his head in frustration with the bed hopping man, who had already made a name for himself, not his practice.

Nodding, she told herself that if anyone could help Cameron, it was Matt. His brother's lack of bedside manner and smug attitude wasn't going to fix him. "I'm sure."